Chapter 26

"Repurpose"

"Hey, what about us? These-"

"I am not authorized to say." The Tai worker pulled away and hurried off. With a defeated sigh, Hawkmoon retreated to the bruised form of the Aurorus, where the others were crowded around outside - awaiting the verdict of the Dartwings, who were trying their best to keep Sandstorm and Swiftsear in a state at least approaching stabilized and alive.

Vale's body was left outside, her crumpled chassis covered over with a Tai shawl. It had been the aliens that had brought her back to them, and they seemed sorry to have been in any way involved. It had certainly left the rest of them in a state Hawkmoon couldn't really describe as anything other than 'rudderless'. Well, maybe horrified and numbed, but rudderless felt more apt for her in particular.

"I can't believe..." Quell started to say, then muffled his words into his servos and held his faceplates tight.

"Contrail never warned us about anything like this," Skydive murmured - not angry, but thoughtful. There wasn't a mean bone in his body. He didn't have any bones at all, in truth, but the metaphor still stood. Sorta.

"Contrail never expected anything like this," Nacelle shot back. "None of us did. This is..."

"They're like the Quintessons," Northwind growled. "Cruel."

"You've never even seen the Quintessons."

"I've read about them!"

"Yeah, read papers typed up by mecha who weren't even there or witness-reports written by survivors. Biased survivors."

"You don't think the Quintessons deserved what they got?"

"Oh, I'm sure they did, but I don't think those... what, those Hive? I don't think they've left much in the way of survivors where the Imojel were concerned - or anyone on-planet. Quintessons still wanted living slaves. These things? Not so much. They killed an entire world…"

"We survived," Hawkmoon piped up. She looked around at each set of faceplates, peering into fearful optics. "I'm probably going to regret asking, but... is everyone alright?"

Northwind snorted. "Not even a little. Were you really expecting otherwise?"

"No." Hawkmoon sat down beside Cyberwarp, leaned against the shuttle's hull and allowed her helm to lull back. She raised an arm and rapped her knuckles against Cyberwarp's chassis. "'Warp? You still in there?"

"How do you do it?" Cyberwarp whispered, staring at nothing in particular, her servos limply thrown across her lap.

"Do what?"

"Kill, like... like you did. You killed those things. Effortlessly."

"Not effortlessly." Hawkmoon self-consciously reached up to where the witch had scored a twin-clawed gash across her cheek. The beads of leaking energon had begun to dry, and the flow had been diverted by her self-repair programme. Nanites were at work mending the damage, but... faceplate injuries were finicky, or so she'd heard. It was probably going to take some Dartwing intervention to properly fix up - if she ever got around to it. Not that she much minded, anyways. Staying pretty in an all-out war was a fool's game. One she'd given up on a long, long time ago.

Digits not her own rose to trace by the cuts. Hawkmoon hissed, but stilled all the same when Cyberwarp flinched. "It's... alright," she alleviated.

"You're lying."

"Suppose I am."

"So it does hurt?"

"A little," Hawkmoon amended. "I've had worse."

"How did you do it?" Cyberwarp asked again, voice hushed. Quell and Northwind were talking, maybe arguing about something. It didn't matter. "You look... calm. You're the only one who actually looks fine with all this."

"I'm really not," Hawkmoon whispered back, voice beginning to tremble. "Frag it, 'Warp, I'm... I'm so lost."

"What..." Cyberwarp's optics widened. She leaned in. "What's wrong?"

"It's... I can't."

"You prom-"

"Not here," Hawkmoon amended. "Not with... everyone."

"They aren't listening."

"Like frag am I going to leave that to chance. Pit, I shouldn't even be telling anyone."

"But-"

"I said later, right? Just... give me time. I'm still trying to work through..."

"Work through what?"

Reasons to fight on. "Leave it, 'Warp. Not now."

"Soon, though," Cyberwarp told her. Her tone and expression brooked no argument - and Hawkmoon definitely wasn't in a mood to give her one.

"Yeah. Soon."

"'Moon."

"Nacelle?" Hawkmoon glanced at him, steadying herself - or trying to, at the very least. "What?"

"We've got company." Nacelle nodded ahead of them. Hawkmoon followed where his optics were looking and - yeah, Ikitri'velus was there, with two Tai rifle-bearers, marching towards them.

"Well. Frag." Hawkmoon levered herself back to her pedes. "I'll deal with this."

"Be sure that you do," Northwind murmured. "I'm getting real tired of their 'hospitality'."

Hawkmoon ignored him, stepped forward, and greeted the approaching Tai with a warning look. "My squad really isn't in a mood to-"

"That one has a Tai-blade." Ikitri pointed at Cyberwarp. "Return it. At once."

"... Riiiight." Hawkmoon half-turned around. "'Warp, they want their stabby stick back."

"Wha- Oh, right." Cyberwarp staggered over, passed the Void-edged sabre over to Hawkmoon, who twirled it around some, clicked a button on the hilt and marveled at the sight of all the individual panels folding up and retracting away. She tossed it to Ikitri - who caught it ably enough.

"I've been informed you fought the Foe," the Taishibeth observed.

Hawkmoon said nothing. Vale was only... well, maybe a few feet wasn't applicable given their apparently immense sizes, but she was still close. Right there. In broad view. Barely concealed beneath a borrowed alien cloak. Fragging yes they'd fought - none of them had been given much choice in the matter.

"I've been instructed to bring you to the helm. The admiral wishes to speak with you," Ikitri said stiffly. They glanced around at the others. "Quarters are being prepared for you and your kin."

"How many?"

"A number."

"Are they close?" Hawkmoon persisted. "We aren't leaving each other."

"I can arrange for adjoining chambers," Ikitri sighed. "Is that all?"

Hawkmoon gave them a blank look and, to the others, said in Cybertronian, "They're giving us rooms."

"Wait, what?" Northwind shot to his pedes. "We should be leaving, 'Moon!"

"There's still Hive out there," Hawkmoon retorted. "We're not flying out into that mess."

"Then let's jump the system!"

"There's nothing to say they can't follow. 'Sides, I'm not leaving."

Northwind's optics widened. "What?"

"I'm not leaving," Hawkmoon repeated. "I'm staying. To help."

"But-"

"Swiftsear and Sandstorm aren't in any condition to be flying. Or making decisions. Look, feel free to head back to Cybertron down the line, but none of us can risk it now." Hawkmoon grimaced. "Not if there's a chance those things could trace our flight-paths back home."

No one else said anything. No one else wanted to. The idea of Cybertron ending up like Taluka wasn't a pleasant one. Hawkmoon swiveled back to Ikitri. "We'll take those rooms."

Ikitri chirped to one of his companions. "Erchu will lead your compatriots there."

"Some might be staying here. With our ship. That possible?"

"If that is what they want."

"Great." Hawkmoon folded her arms. "Take me to your leader, then."

The plateship's bridge, when they finally arrived, was both exactly and exactly not what Hawkmoon expected to find. It was... well, it looked like a battleship's bridge should have. There was a platform for the leader-person to stand on and look all important, and a load of terminals for other less important people to work at. Hawkmoon wasn't familiar with all the going-ons of capital ships; the biggest thing she'd ever flown was a Cabal Harvester, and only to crash it into a Sand Eaters regiment. Oh, and herself. She'd flown herself. Her alt-form probably counted, given that it was apparently jumpship-sized.

But nothing like this. Still, it looked similar enough to the helms of what few Fallen Ketches she'd stormed in her lifetimes. Vaguely. In framework, mostly. The Fallen certainly hadn't carved the symbol of a sun into the ceiling of their command decks, nor were they wont to invite other species to work alongside them. Not as the Tai were. While most of those within were indeed avian Tai, there were still enough armoured Myods, cuttlefish-centaurs and even a single case of a floating orb wherein lurked a formless shadowy thing, the latter by the side of the most visibly aged Taishibeth Hawkmoon had yet laid eyes on - a once-colourful bird turning silver, with a number of pinkish scars running down its body where feathers conspicuously gave way to bare skin.

"Admiral," Ikitri intoned, bowing low. They'd marched Hawkmoon over the raised platform to where the aged Tai, the orb, and even Registrar-Deacon Kirtir were overlooking a holotable's zoomed-out display of the local star system. "Here's the informant you requested."

The elderly Tai - Admiral Jehennes - slowly turned around, his hands falling to the swords clipped to his belt, claws tap-tap-tapping over all four fold-blade hilts.

"You are... Hawkmoon, yes?" Jehennes asked, glancing at Kirtir. The other Tai nodded. "I am sorry for your loss. It was not my intent to involve your kin in this fight."

"The others want to leave," Hawkmoon said, cutting to the chase. She was too mentally drained to bother with niceties. Not that she was in the habit of making nice anyways, but at least now she had an excuse. "And none of us know what the Pit you're doing with us, so... are we guests or prisoners?"

"I can't allow-"

"I'm staying, by the way." Hawkmoon clasped her servos behind her back, brushing against her lower set of wings. "You need what I know, and I need to help your people survive for peace of mind more than anything else. In exchange, I want your word that my people are free to go whenever they want."

Jehennes glanced at Kirtir, and then the orb. The elderly Tai blinked. "I... am sure something can be arranged, but..."

"You don't have to do this," Kirtir hissed with sudden vehemence, not even looking at Hawkmoon.

Jehennes spared them a remorseful look. "I won't leave them with their victory. I won't. I cannot. The Imojel-"

"Have not been completely eradicated. We evacuated enough to spare them from extinction. They have not yet won - not completely."

"Yes, yes, and how high those survivors will jump with joy, indeed. Shedding not a single tear for their lost home or their annihilated people." Jehennes sharply clacked his beak with displeasure. "It was not yet time for them to be inducted. The Star-Court desired another millennia of progress."

"We won't give them anything they don't deserve."

"But they'll ask for it. Look, here they come now."

The pitter-patter of more feet reached Hawkmoon's audio-receptors. She turned and neatly stepped aside as a trio of Myod-flanked Imojel officials in dark ash-caked regalia approached. They glanced up at her with fear and spite, at Ikitri with guarded expressions, and stomped their little selves all the way to the holotable - which they couldn't even reach the edge of if they lifted their arms and stood on their toes, being so small.

Or, Hawkmoon amended, so averagely-sized. Everyone else was just plain massive. It felt strangely relieving to know that humanity weren't the only pipsqueaks in the galaxy.

The three Imojel bowed - deeply, stiffly, both ill-at-ease with the gesture and in the knowledge that it was necessary. "Lord Angel," the first gnashed out from horrific mouthparts. "We thank you for your aid."

"I was beholden to do so," Jehennes evenly replied in their own guttural language, all four eyes narrowed. "The Emperor willed it."

"The Emperor of your Star-Court, yes?" The Imojel shuffled forward with barely-concealed glee. Oh, they were shameless. "What, ah, do you intend-"

"We're returning to Tai Prime," Jehennes announced, briefly glancing Hawkmoon's way. The announcement was for her benefit too, evidently. Well, she wasn't going to complain. "The Foe cannot be permitted to track our trajectories home; the Raven Bridge will open the way forth."

"And-"

"And what remains of your people will live out the rest of your lives in considerable comfort beneath the light of the Divine Sun."

The lead Imojel frantically bobbed his/her/their head. "And we will join your-"

"No," Jehennes said sharply, beak clacking.

The Imojel bristled and stirred - surprise and affront both.

"You disgust me," Jehennes abruptly hissed down at the three little aliens. "You... you are revolting. Your world has died, and most of your kind have been exterminated - and here you are, chasing... benefits. No, you will not have a place on the Court. But your children might, in a millennia or so."

"Lord-"

"From here on out, all your spawn and every aspect of their upbringing are under Tai jurisdiction. We're seizing your larva, effective immediately. You're to surrender your tadpoles to Imperial custody the moment they hatch, or there will be consequences."

The Imojel looked at each other and trembled with rage. "What are you suggesting?!"

"Your progeny will be safely placed in contained arcologies scattered throughout the Star-Web," Jehennes coldly elaborated, glaring at each amphibian - as if daring them to contradict him. "They will from thereon be subjected to culture-stimulants and behavioural-reconditionings - completely harmless and cooperating with the Tai Verdict of Equal Rights, I assure you, as esteemed members of a valued vassal-state deserve."

None of the Imojel looked happy. Not even a little. The leader, just a little taller than the others, spat out through its vertical mouth and scowled - horrifically. "You cannot do this! The spawning pools are a sacred-"

"We're going to teach your children to care," Jehennes snapped. "Only then may they be permitted to take the Twelfth Chair. Only. Then. You are dismissed. Decurions! See these creatures out of my bridge."

Two of the nearby Myods approached and groaned. The Imojel looked, for a moment, like they wanted to argue the point forward - but the sight of towering armoured molluscs quickly shot down all hopes of pleading their case. They went begrudgingly, cowed by the sight of railguns and giant sea-snails.

What a universe she lived in.

Jehennes sighed and turned to her. "What were you saying?"

"I need a promise of... safe conduct, whatever," Hawkmoon rattled off. "A promise that my people won't be harmed, will be treated well, the works."

"You can have all of that and more. When will they be leaving?"

"I don't know. Could be whenever's convenient, but now..." Hawkmoon nodded towards the viewport at the front of the bridge - holographic, of course, because only a fool builds a command deck where enemy snub-fighters could fire at - and to where glitters of green sparked across the broiling mass of Taluka. "Can't lead them home."

"How do they track?" Kirtir suddenly asked, with urgency. "How do they stalk ships between the stars?"

Hawkmoon shrugged helplessly. "That's not the info I got."

"Then what is?"

"Enemy hierarchy, troop structure, and maybe some battleplans. The Hive are suicidal zealots; it gets predictable after a while."

"Your people, and yourself, will be treated with all the protective rights and personal freedoms of Tai citizens for this," Jehennes quietly promised. "Give us the Foe's head, and you'll have yourselves whatever you want."

"That's a tall order."

"It might just be my last order." Jehennes closed his beak and turned to Kirtir. "We cannot leave them this victory."

Kirtir looked at him quizzically - then flinched and opened their beak to squeak out a surprised, "You can't mean-"

"I do," Jehennes pressed. "I would have it turn to ash in their mouths."

"This is... this is sacrilege. The Emperor will have your head."

"She's welcome to it." Jehennes turned to the viewport and folded his claws together. "They will have nothing from me, Deacon. Nothing. Get this done."

"I... I don't know if I can."

"It's my decree - let the weight of the punishment fall on my shoulders."

"Um," Hawkmoon cautiously interrupted. "Should I be worried?"

"Yes," Kirtir squeaked, staring at Jehennes' back. "We all should."

"Do this for me, Deacon," Jehennes whispered, "and I will turn myself into the brig of my own volition. I'll give the order to you in dataweave if you need it - but you have to do it."

"But the ship-"

"Tribunal Eezhtros will take the bridge, until Arch-Admiral Virutes can assign a proper replacement."

Kirtir floundered. "But sir-"

"Do it, Kirtir. For the Sun's sake - before they warp another unborn child."

Hawkmoon glanced between them, bewildered and lost. Kirtir's shoulders fell. "If that is your command," they stiffly murmured, "then I will see it through. For the Sun. For the Emperor."

"For the Emperor," Jehennes echoed. "You are both dismissed. No, wait - Cybertronian, Hawkmoon. Your wounded; is there anything we can do to assist?"

Hawkmoon grimaced and shifted. "I don't think anyone can at this stage."

"What ails them?"

"Spark-loss."

"Spirit-fragmentation," Kirtir muttered, casting a final unreadable look Jehennes' way, then turned about and left - the receding sound of talons clacking on the floor of the command deck following them out.

"You have my sympathies," Jehennes told her. He sounded maybe honest, but it was difficult to get a read on an alien species she'd known all of three joors. "Quarters have been prepared for you, have they not? Ikitri will guide you there. If there is anything else you need, do not hesitate to consult him further - he'll be stationed on the same deck. You need only ask a member of my crew to find him."

"Not a prisoner, then, I guess," Hawkmoon mused.

Jehennes chirped with amusement. "Not quite."

"What happens next?"

"We leave and prepare our other worlds."

"No, but... look, with all due respect, it sounded like you were planning something-"

"That is... not your concern," Jehennes sternly told her. "I advise that you take this time to rest... if your kind even need it. The Star-Court will be very interested in what you have to say. You are dismissed."

"Rest well," the floating orb hissed. Hawkmoon flinched and twirled to stare at the shadow-thing inside; it was... alive. Conscious. Speaking. It leered at her, a silhouette of a small, dark vulpine-like creature flickering beneath the murky, glassy surface.

It freaked her out. Hawkmoon beat a hasty retreat and stifled the anxious need to look back over her shoulder and wing.

"Here," Ikitri told her, voice thick with disinterest. He (Jehennes had called him, well, "him", so that was something) gestured to a closed sliding door, waved to the terminal, and it slid open. "I believe some of your kin are already inside."

"Thanks," Hawkmoon replied. "Where will you be?"

Ikitri glanced at her. "Attempting to estimate the cost of this venture," he bitterly told her. "And the price of housing... mechanoforms."

"You're delightful. Really. A real puddle of joy."

"A... puddle?"

Hawkmoon grimaced. "I was trying for something, it didn't really work out. Anyways, yeah, frag you and I'll talk to you later." She stepped inside, rolled her pauldrons, and vented a deep, deep sigh. Hawkmoon heard an avian-ish grunt of irritation briefly from behind her before the door slid shit - almost catching her wings. She bit out a curse and stumbled forward, itching to nurse the sensitive wing-sensors but lacking the dexterity - and the general arm-length. It was a little sadistic on the end of whoever or whatever had designed Seekers in the first place, because they had these great long wings that were tender all over, and normal-sized arms in relation to their humanoid form that simply couldn't reach most parts of those wings.

And she had four of the damn things.

But then, she supposed, that was what trines were for. Well, that and exterminating all notions of personal privacy, it seemed.

"'Moon!" Cyberwarp approached, dragged her into a tight embrace. Hawkmoon stiffly returned it, glancing over the other femme's shoulder to the other pair. Skydive and Nacelle were at a different table, having previously been working with datapads, but they presently dropped those in favour of looking her way - questions hanging on their lips.

"Did something happen?" Hawkmoon asked, worried. "What about Swift and San-"

"They're... not offline," Skydive grimly managed. "They're in the room across the hall. Quell thinks it's better they be somewhere quiet. Deciforge wants to repair the Aurorus; it took some shrapnel when that... thing hit the hanger."

"What did the aliens say to you?" Nacelle asked, curious.

Hawkmoon winced and tapped into their shared comms channel - the one used by the entire formation. ::The Tai are heading back home via a space-bridge, I think. We're staying with them; there's likely more Hive en route to 62732CA, and I'm not chancing a jump they can follow. I've been informed that everyone'll be free to go as soon as we arrive. I think. I could be reading it wrong, but that's the impression I got. I don't know, actually - the Tai speak weird.::

::And you're still sticking with them?:: Northwind questioned.

Hawkmoon felt Cyberwarp disengage and retreat a single pace - scrutinizing her faceplates. It didn't feel nice. ::Probably am. We'll talk about this later - when the time comes.::

::See that you d- Frag, Quell, I'm reading some abnormal spark fluctuations.::

::Those aren't abnormal.::

::I can't-::

::Skydive can help,:: Nacelle offered. He gave the other Seeker a pointed look. "I need to talk with my trine, please."

Skydive dipped his helm, gathered up his datapad and murmured a goodbye before he left the chamber. Hawkmoon glanced around, checking that it had closed after him, then staggered forward and collapsed on the room's singular bunk - a soft, silken thing that was more bed than berth. It didn't feel any more comfortable either way. The desire for delicate bedding had been excised from her - along with most other physical needs and greeds. "Frag," she hissed, cradling her faceplates with her servos, grunting with pain as the flat of a talon touched where the witch had left its mark.

"Hawk," Nacelle began. "Now's a good time-"

"I don't want to do this. Don't make me do this. Please."

"We can't ignore this!" Nacelle shot to his pedes, faceplates scrunched up. He looked confused, aggravated - hurt. "Like - how do you... there's just so much... nothing feels right with you anymore!"

"Nacelle," Cyberwarp scolded. "We said-"

"That was before Vale died," Nacelle retorted. "Hawk knows about-"

"I never wanted to get involved in this," Hawkmoon gasped out. "Any of this. This wasn't supposed to be my war; I never signed up for a xenocide. Didn't sign up to fight."

"None of us did," Nacelle grunted. "But Iacon-"

"I didn't mean to get any of you involved either," Hawmoon interrupted. "Look, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but this - this is something big. I'm sorry that Vale died; I shouldn't have let anyone else get dragged into this. You should have all moved on to the next system, but... Scrap." She offlined her optics.

"Hawkmoon," Cyberwarp softly began, "what's going on with-"

"Frag it. Frag it, fine, I'll fragging..." Hawkmoon leaned back, grimacing something fierce. "'Spose there's not much reason to keep it in. Not like the universe can do any worse by me anymore. I've already hit rock-bottom..."

"'Moon-"

"I'm not Cybertronian," Hawkmoon bitterly blurted out before she even begin to change her mind - her vocalizer hoarse with instant dismay and regret. "There it is - there's your fragging truth."

Cyberwarp and Nacelle stared at her, then each other.

"You're... from a colony?" Nacelle cautiously asked. "Didn't know there were any Seeker-"

"No colony," Hawkmoon whispered. She dragged herself back to where the bed met wall, pulled her legs up over the edge to keep her chassis covered, and folded her arms over her helm. As close to a defensive posture as she could manage.

Nacelle vented. "I don't get it. What are you talking about?"

"Really? Making me say it?"

"Well I don't know what you even mean, so yes!"

"I'm not Cybertronian! How much clearer can I get?!"

"That's so far from clear and you know-"

"Stop!" Cyberwarp snapped. Nacelle fell silent, dismayed. Cyberwarp grimaced and glanced Hawkmoon's way. "Please. What do you mean?"

Hawkmoon brought a servo over her chest and rapped her knuckles over where her spark chamber was hidden away. "Didn't start with this," she murmured. "That's what I mean."

"... But how wouldn't you..." Cyberwarp's optics widened. Nacelle's too. Their sides of the thin surface-level bond, as was typical, open wide. They felt confusion, consternation, and then, the beginnings of realization.

"Not Cybertronian," Hawkmoon quietly clarified, incapable of saying anything else.

Cyberwarp stumbled back. "Alien?" she whispered, hopeful doubt filling her bond and voice both.

Hawkmoon nodded. 'Warp's doubt disappeared - replaced by stupefaction.

Nacelle stirred with unease. "That's... that's impossible."

"Impossible is such a causal word," Hawkmoon mused with bitter amusement. "Nothing's impossible. Not really."

"But you have a spark-"

"Don't ask me about tha-... Look, I'm not sure... I'm just..." Hawkmoon sunk back in on herself. "I'm so lost."

"What are you, then? A drone? A-a shifter or-"

"Organic," Hawkmoon elaborated, then quietly added, "originally."

"Now that's impossible," Nacelle blurted, voice rising.

"I really, really wish it was. Would've made my life so much simpler..."

"Hawkmoon, stop, look - just stop playing around. What's the real-"

Hawkmoon sighed, picked inwards at a hidden file squirreled away in she'd mentally labeled as 'Exomind-memory-storage' and tugged it out - injecting it into the commlink channel twinned to the faux trine-bond. Nothing complicated, nothing dangerous or even all that important, just... sensation. Muddied and dull compared to the keen sensors of Cybertronians, but there were other aspects at work - the false feeling of life, of being alive, of residing in a body custom-built to fool exoneurons filled to the brim with downloaded biological instinct and a once-living consciousness. It was her - in a dark room, alone, staring up at the stars through a cracked skylight and just... being.

"That's... what is... this?" Cyberwarp gasped, optics dimming as she re-watched the shared file over and over.

"This isn't right," Nacelle whispered.

Hawkmoon felt something stab into her spark. "No," she agreed, "it isn't."

"Are you... what are you?"

"Are you Tai?" Cyberwarp pressed, almost breathless - expression unreadable, if a tad wary. No, scratch that, a lot wary. "Is that why you're..." she indicated to the door. To the rest of the ship. To the entire star system, maybe.

"Not even close," Hawkmoon replied, voice cold and empty. Something had died inside her. Hope, maybe. Hope to get home, to reconnect with those she'd left behind, to mourn for Gecko properly, with friends and family. Yeah, that was all gone and it was never coming back.

"Then what?"

"I'm..." Hawkmoon trailed off. "It doesn't matter. My... they don't exist anymore. They don't... they're gone. And I'm... I'm... I'm lost without them."

Nacelle and Cyberwarp shared another look. Worried. But maybe not for her.

Hawkmoon took a moment to at least try and collect herself before inching back to the edge of the bed, getting back to her pedes and dully telling them, "I'll ask Ikitri for another room. I'd... I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone. I don't want..." She hesitated. "I don't know anymore. Not like it matters. I'm... I'm sorry. For... for whatever. I just don't know."

She made for the door. Cyberwarp grabbed her arm, holding her in place. Hawkmoon readied herself for a tirade, an accusation, even physical blows.

All she got was, "You're actually an alien."

"To you," Hawkmoon corrected, averting her optics. She wished she could have been anywhere else - even back on Taluka, tearing Hive apart limb from limb. Before it became a lava-ball, that was. Or even after - she wasn't picky. Not at that moment.

"And your..." Cyberwarp hesitated, looked at Nacelle for help, got none (he was too busy staring) and finished with, "are gone?"

Hawkmoon said nothing; she just inclined her helm, numbly.

"But how are you-"

"I don't know. Because... because I was already halfway to becoming a robot, maybe," Hawkmoon muttered. "Because I died, too, probably."

"You-"

"If you're going to hit me, just... do it. I definitely deserve it. For leading you both on like I have. For… with you…"

Cyberwarp shook her helm. "I'm not going to hit you."

"Your frame," Nacelle rasped. "How'd you... was that someone else's?"

Hawkmoon looked down at herself. "I think..." she began, then sighed, "I think she was already dead when I got here. Or close to it, and with no help coming."

"But... how-"

"Signals and Light and viruses and, quite possibly, one of your Primes. The sharp one - Vector. That's what..." Hawkmoon grimaced. "That's what Nightbeat said. Before he got himself killed."

"Killed?"

"Oh yes, a mech captured me, put a cable in my head and had a peek. Killed another guy and then himself, because... because of 'Vector Prime'," Hawkmoon scowled, but that faded away - replaced with despair all over again. "I'm... I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be now, I'm... frag. Frag. Frag!" She dropped to her knees as it hit her again, the sheer dread of what was ahead, of what was her present, of what was her reality. Everything was gone. Everything. Everyone. And she was never going to get it back.

"That file could have been faked," Nacelle whispered - to Cyberwarp, not her. Hawkmoon didn't bother trying to correct him.

"I believe her," Cyberwarp softly replied - her tone neutral. "I've always believed. You have too."

"But she's been lying to us."

"Yes."

"I don't..." Nacelle staggered to the wall opposite, drove his servos against it and leaned forward - vents working overtime. "What in the Pit..."

Hawkmoon shuddered - but she forced herself through it. "I'l lel-"

"No," Cyberwarp said, dropping next to her. "Stay. We need to know more."

Hawkmoon gave her a sidelong look. "You don't," she told her. "You don't want to."

"I do," Cyberwarp stubbornly retorted.

"I don't. I can't. It's... 'Warp, I'm not... I'm at the edge. I'm going to fall."

"You're not."

"Yes, I am. It's too much."

"We're not going to let you."

Nacelle pushed away from the wall, strode over, and took up Hawkmoon's other arm. Together, they pulled her back to her pedes. She let them; she hadn't the strength to push either of them away. They may well have been all she had left.

"We're going to talk about secrets," Nacelle grunted, unimpressed - but calmer. Both of them were calmer. Not happy, nowhere near pleased, but stable. "And why a trine can only operate on honesty."

"I only joined the Institution to get home," Hawkmoon admitted. "To leave, but... home's not there."

"Yeah, that's what I mean." Nacelle let go only when it was clear she wasn't going to collapse all over again. "That's what we're going to talk about. Everything."

"I can't."

"Then we'll talk about what you can," Cyberwarp reasoned - to both of them. "Okay?"

"Okay," Nacelle begrudgingly agreed.

Hawkmoon vented another sigh. "Okay," she breathed - or tried to.

She still couldn't breathe.

And she hated it.

AN: Huge thanks to Nomad Blue!